


Hurts Like Hell

by Magical_Bucket



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley has Trauma from the Fall (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Crowley, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), The Fall (Good Omens), The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Bucket/pseuds/Magical_Bucket
Summary: Falling must hurt, right? How simple would it be for the pain to only last through the Fall. What If the pain lasts much longer than that? What if it lasts for over 6,000 years? This, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact thing Crowley has been trying to hide from Aziraphale. The Fall leaves Crowley with lasting pain he doesn't want anyone to know about, but how could he possibly lie to his Angel?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 215
Collections: My faves - Good Omens Whump





	Hurts Like Hell

There are some things you never recover from. 

For example: taking a million mile per hour freestyle dive into a giant pit of burning sulfur is bound to leave some sort of mark. Maybe it won't hurt as bad in the long run. For that to happen, you'd, of course, have to make the perfect dive while distracted by the rest of the pain that comes with falling. For the most part, you ended up failing spectacularly, usually landing rather oddly on some part of your body. The quick change in altitude doesn't help your issues either.

Then, there's the mental trauma. The screaming as you're cast out of the only home you've ever known while your wings burn off as the air rushes by your entire corporation isn't something one tends to forget. What's more, the only people to talk to about the whole experience would likely use that pain against you. Mix all of the above factors together, and you get 1 newly fallen Crowley.

Now, not all of it applied to Crowley, just most of it. Every demon was wickedly different from each other, all with different experiences. The fall of our snake demon, for example, mainly had lasting effects on the eyes, head, and joints. Having your entire being turned into a snake is never a pleasant feeling, after all. Lots of things hurt while you fall, but what truly makes the rest of your immortal life hell is how that pain settles. For Crowley, the long-lasting pain settled in the form of chronic migraines and joint pain. As far as Anthony was concerned, he got off easy.

The people on earth were always coming up with amazing new inventions to help make daily life easier. Fortunately for Crowley, he stayed on earth enough that these new products could help him out too. It started with sunglasses.

The world was nowhere near as old when sunglasses came about. Originally, Crowley only picked up a pair because they went with his usual dark ensemble. Even so, they proved to have far more uses than just fashion. They were also quite good for hiding behind. Hiding his eyes from the humans, or his emotions from everyone else. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and Crowley didn't want anyone or anything to poke around in there to see he was hurting. Especially one particular angel.

The first time Aziraphale saw the glasses, he had been the one to approach Crowley in a city long wiped out by the passage of time. Crowley, of course, had been drinking outside in the early morning sun trying to nurse what he hoped was a hangover after forgetting to sober up the night before.

"Good Lord, Crawl-" Crowley glared at the angel before he could finish saying his old name. "Crowley, what is on your face?" Aziraphale asked with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. The sort of tone you might hear an adult scold an imaginative child with.

"'S’ a new invention. Humans call em' Sun Spectacles. Block out the sun and all that," and Crowley was sporting the darkest pair he could possibly find. His head was still pounding, regardless of the drinking and sobering up. Definitely another headache. He decided it was a lost cause and offered the rest of the drink to Aziraphale, who declined.

"I see…" Crowley squinted through the tinted glass up to where the Principality was standing. The minimal light made looking at the Angel's divine light just bearable. Aziraphale had begun to think, wringing his hands together like always when he's thinking about how to say something. He looked...sad? No, that couldn't be. Maybe tunnel vision was messing with his head, or the steady beating wasn't allowing him to process things right. "But, why? Just as a temporary fashion statement I presume?" It was Aziraphale’s turn to look at Crowley. And there, in the eyes of an Angel, he saw a glimmer of nervousness. 

There weren't a lot of rules Crowley followed. He did, however, have his own set of policies that were never under any circumstances to be broken. Policy number two: never lie to Aziraphale. These rules, like any other, could be bent. "Actually, I've been thinking of keeping them. Full time. Helps me blend in with the humans better, you know?" Technically not a lie, just not the whole truth. It's not like he could just go and say _'Well, actually, I'm considering never taking these off again. Can't go around showing people the doors to my non-existent soul all the time. Can't risk showing you or anyone the amount of pain I'm in or the love I feel. Oh, also I don't have to look at myself and see a worthless demon anymore!'_ that would definitely not do.

Still, a little bit of guilt crept into Crowley's mind when he thought he saw his Angel's face fall for a moment before returning to kind and understanding. Definitely the headache messing with his thoughts. "Good idea. I should have thought the humans would have been curious. It's not every day they see snake-eyed folks after all." Crowley only gave a grunt in acknowledgment. "Well my dear, there's a new restaurant that opened in the town. What would you say to breakfast?" Aziraphale stretched out his hand to Crowley. An offering. According to policy number 4: Crowley had no choice but to accept. Everything hurt as Aziraphale hauled him up to stand, but he'd gotten used to hiding it at this point. They spent the rest of the day together just being themselves.

That day was one of the better ones Crowley had throughout his long life. On good days, he only dealt with a minor headache or two, and his body simply felt like pins and needles were poking at different parts of his flesh and bones. On a regular day, a few painful headaches, and everything sore everywhere wasn't uncommon. On the bad days, however…

First it was the sunglasses, then canes came into style. December of 1860 had been one of the worst months in the +72,000 he had faced. The world had been illuminated with sunlight and fluffy snow, the only thing that seemed to block the slightest portion of the light out was his sunglasses. The cold weather made his entire corporation feel heavy and slow, yet set all his nerve endings alight with pain at the same time. Not to mention all the kindness of the season. What should have been prime tempting time quickly turned into 'wallow in self-pity on the couch' time. Sure he could have hunkered down anywhere, but being able to sprawl out in every possible angle in the dark seemed to help with the pain at least. Too much pain to sleep still, but better. Without sleep, Crowley was left to think and remember, which just might have been worse.

It was easy for Crowley to lose himself in his thoughts. One of the few downsides to being a demon with imagination was not fully being able to control the bad thoughts. He let his mind wander into the past. His mind wandered way back before the earth came to be. There was a time where he wasn't in constant pain, where he was able to express himself and actually be useful and somewhat appreciated. He could still have that now if he wasn't so stupid. If he kept his mouth shut, if he kept making stars and weaving together the cosmos, maybe he could actually be friends openly with Aziraphale. Maybe they could have had something more.

No, instead Crowley had to damn himself. Had to replay the screams of the other fallen in his head, relive the burning of getting torn apart and stitched back together into something different like some monster from a child's nightmare. To live knowing part of you was missing, taken by the very person who created you in the most painful way possible with no chance of forgiveness was a Hell in itself.

Unforgivable; That's what Crowley now was. An unforgivable monster of hell who knew nothing but pain and failure. To have what he wanted, what he needed, so close to him but never being able to just reach out and touch it. Never able to be loved or forgiven by the one being whose opinion really mattered to you because they'll be forever loyal to the creator that broke you, that was all just peachy. 

Crowley didn't realize he had started crying until the door to his flat opened. 

"Crowley?" Shit. There's only one person in the universe who could open his door and say his name like he was concerned, and that was Aziraphale (aka the last person he wanted to see him like this.) Without the thoughts to focus on, the physical pain came back at him full throttle. At least the room was still mostly dark, aside from the light coming through his doorway. "Really Crowley, I know you're in here." The door closed, then footsteps. One, two, three… 

**CRASH**

If Crowley had the energy or capacity to jump in surprise, he would have surely been there to see what Aziraphale knocked over. 

"Oh, damn it! Honestly dear, would it kill you to let a little light in here? I can't see a bloody thing…" more footsteps followed up to the window. Aziraphale opened the blinds, and a bright light came pouring in from the outside world Crowley was trying desperately to block out. He didn't even have his sunglasses on. 

"Ngk, Angel…. what're you doing here?" He had to squint to look at Aziraphale, but even then the pain in his head was 10 times worse than it had been five minutes ago.

"Don't tell me you forgot. We were supposed to meet up at St. James five hours ago! Have you been here sleeping the entire time?" Quite obviously, Aziraphale wasn't too happy. He stepped closer to Crowley's sprawling forum and opened his mouth like he was about to lecture him, but paused. Aziraphale was starting right into Crowley's eyes, then to his tear-stained cheeks. "My dear," his voice had gone soft again, filled to the brim with pity. "Are you alright?" Crowley would have definitely preferred being scolded then being looked at like _that_.

"Course, why wouldn't I be?" Crowley said as he was absolutely not alright. He hadn't moved an inch since Aziraphale came into his flat, and he'd rather have kept it that way.

"Crowley, it looks like you were crying. Are you certain everything's alright dear boy?" 

"Yes I'm sure. Bad dream was all," if you count dreams as reliving memories, which Crowley did. 

Aziraphale knew Crowley liked to sleep so that wasn't too far off from the realm of possibilities, but he was still hesitant to accept that as the truth. "Look, since I missed the meetup at St. James, we go to that little cafe downtown you like so much. My treat." Anything to get you to stop looking at me like that, to keep this secret, to get my only armor back on. 

"Are you sure you want to? I wouldn't object, but you look white as a sheet. Perhaps we should take a rain check until you're feeling better." Aziraphale changed his expression from pitty to reassuring like he was trying to...to... Crowley didn't know what he was trying to do. Half his head was telling him to shut the lights off again while the other side was telling him to get up and go. Crowley picked the latter. 

"I'm sure, Aziraphale. I'm fine, and if you're really concerned this could be a chance for you to keep an eye on me, eh?" He matched his suave voice with a classic smirk. "I just have to grab a few things and we'll be off. Wait in the hall?" Crowley rocked himself up to a sitting position, no part of his corporation liking the change in position. Once Aziraphale had vacated to the pre-mentioned hall did Crowley grab his sunglasses and shut the blinds. At least the glasses could help a slight bit. All he had to do was keep his head down and the headaches should be manageable enough...he hoped. But there was still the issue of barely being able to move without copious amounts of pain. 

This is why canes were oh so useful. Crowley could put so much of his weight on the thing to reduce stress on himself, and still look like a proper gentle demon while doing so. Not to mention it helped in mobility while moving around as well. Overall it was the perfect tool to convince your best friend that you are, in fact, perfectly fine. With all of Crowley's previous experience with hiding his pain along with the added tool on his side, Aziraphale was none the wiser and didn't ask any more questions that day.

In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't long after that the Antichrist was delivered. It was an even shorter time frame to stop Armageddon. Despite all odds being stacked against them, they were able to help Adam stop the world from turning into a pile of burning goo. They were almost home free. 

Victory was so close to being in his grasp yet again.

Aziraphale, now not having a book shop to go back to, stayed with Crowley in his Mayfair flat for the evening. It wasn't the first time his Angel had been to this particular place of residence, but it had been a while. The last time, his apartment hadn't been totaled by attempting to escape two demons. 

Crowley hesitated at his front door. Does he tell Aziraphale of the mess? Of the demon soaked in holy water on the floor of his study, or does he leave it? He looked behind him to Aziraphale, who just looked lost in thought. Crowley could hardly blame him, after the day they'd just had. The Snake demon didn't really want to talk either. In fact, the only place he wanted to be was in a dream state. The door unlocked and opened itself, letting the duo in.

This, admittedly, was not what Crowley expected. When he left, the place was in shambles. Papers had been thrown about haphazardly along with holy water mixed with demon goo on the floor. Instead, the place was spotless. It was exactly how he liked it to be. Silently, he thanked the Antichrist for fixing it up. Now, he wouldn't have to explain why tainted holy water was splashed across the floor.

Aziraphale closed the door behind him while Crowley made a B-line to his couch and made it just before his legs collapsed out from under him as he sprawled across the cushions. The angel joined him soon after. The silence that followed wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it wasn’t completely comfortable either. It was just there to give them a second to breathe before something else terrible happened. 

Aziraphale was the first one to break the sweet nothingness. 

“I’m sorry my dear, I’ve been absolutely awful to you today.” Crowley let his head roll across his shoulders to look at Aziraphale. Their eyes didn’t meet, Aziraphale was looking down at the floor and Crowley had his glasses on. “I should have never said we weren’t friends, and I shouldn’t have just blown you off like that. I was a fool to think that Heaven would listen to me.”

“Nonsense,” Crowley managed to force out, “nothing wrong with hope, Angel. I knew you didn’t _really_ mean it. Sure, it hurt a little bit, but I can’t blame you for that.” The snake demon let a little too much of the truth out. Of course, he wanted to be more honest with his angel now that Armageddon was over, but at the same time he was too tired and drunk with pain to filter himself properly. Aziraphale let out a breath he was holding, and changed the topic.

“Perhaps I could make it up to you some other time. For now, I think we should talk about what we're going to do tomorrow. We both know our former sides aren’t going to keep silent about this.” Aziraphale reached into his coat pocket and took out a burnt piece of paper. “Before we left the airbase, I was able to grab Agnes’ last prophecy. What do you think of it my dear?” He handed the paper to Crowley. 

The snake already knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to read it. His tunnel vision made it difficult to focus on more than a few letters at a time, and his brain refused to process what he could see. Still, he pretended to read it. “Interesting… what do you think we should do, Angel?” He’d just have to go along with whatever Aziraphale thought was the solution. He was smart, he would be able to figure it out. 

“Well, it says we need to choose our faces wisely, and it’s not like we can suck up to our sides and feign loyalty now so it can’t be metaphorical.” Crowley already didn't like where this was going, but he managed to give a slight nod to prompt the angel to continue. “Well, what if it’s more of an, er, physical sense? If we switch bodies-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there Angel.” Yes, Crowley said he would go along with whatever Aziraphale said would work, but not this. “Back at the bar, you said we’d probably explode. You can’t think it would be any different now just because we stopped the apocalypse.” 

“I know what I said, Crowley. Look, I didn’t know angels could possess someone until today, so maybe it is possible for us to safely inhabit one another.” Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and the snake tensed up on instinct. He sucked in a pained breath as the extra contact lit his nerve endings, adding more pins and needles to the existing pain. “Besides, I would rather meet my end with you rather than Heaven. I’d rather leave this world trying to save you instead of going back up there. Please, my dearest Crowley, Agnes hasn’t been wrong yet. We can do this, together.” 

Though hesitant, Crowley agreed with misty eyes. They did a quick practice switch and it worked perfectly. Moments later, Crowley was staring at his own body lazing exactly where he left it. Exactly where Aziraphale was now inhabiting it. Aziraphale used his body to smile at him. Crowley was happy as well, but he was just as nervous. They knew it worked and that meant Aziraphale, his precious angel, would be taking a trip down to hell. He may have been scared about what would happen to him down there, but assuming all went according to plan, they would finally be free. If it went pear-shaped- that wasn’t something Crowley was too keen on thinking about right now. At least Aziraphale didn’t have to feel his pain, it all transferred with him. His secret was still safe, for now. 

The trials came and went and things started to change. Aziraphale and Crowley spent nearly every day together now, always going on little lunch dates or drinking in the back room. They finally had the chance to be happy and enjoy each other’s company without worrying about getting caught together.

Although the other shoe hadn’t dropped, the laces of said shoe had gotten untied, and it was only a matter of time before someone tripped over them. Although the bookshop and Bently were back, Crowley was still suffering. He continued to keep his pain from Aziraphale, but with all the time they’d been spending together, it was only a matter of time before Aziraphale questioned him again. Crowley just hoped he could get the attention off him when that time arose. 

That time inevitably came 3 months after the Apocalypse That Just Didn’t Have it in ‘Em. It was a beautiful clear night, but don’t let the calmness of the environment fool you. An angel and a demon had hunkered down in the back room of a bookshop and had been steadily drinking for the past few hours now. The snake demon had been having a great day, no headaches and the pain in his joints were nothing but a silent buzz. Nothing he couldn’t tune out. Day’s like this were a rarity for Crowley, and there was no one else he would rather spend it with. Things had progressed nicely into talks and debates. 

“Just imagine it! Stair way up into the sky! Right into outer space. I made some of them, you know. They look much better up close!” 

“Is that like the app? Ins- insto… Ugh, that photo sharing thing you told me about? The closer up the better?”

“Exactly! All grainy from here, not as nice. They did a lot of the work though. Constel- those star picture thingies? Humans! They were the ones that came up with them!” Aziraphale let a fond smile creep across his face. It wasn’t every day he got to see Crowley so open and vulnerable. His glasses had been tossed aside somewhere, and he was obviously passionate about astronomy. 

Then, the shoelaces finally caught up. There was a trip, and everything fell from there. Crowley's pain-free day had started to come to an end. The joint pain was what hit him first. Before he could start going on about the stars again, his ankles and knees started to feel much weaker than they had a few moments prior. He had to retreat back to the couch, just as the rest of his body joined in on the orchestra of intense buzzing. Once the pain became searing hot, he stopped breathing. How could Aziraphale not notice the sudden change. He was drunk, not (completely) oblivious.

“Dear? Are you feeling alright?” Aziraphale had sobered up, set his drink to the side, and straightened his posture on alert. At this point, Crowley felt like someone had tiny hydraulic presses pressing down all over him. 

“Fine, Angel.” He said as he was absolutely not fine. The pain, he could kind of handle. The combined headache that was starting up, however. 

“Crowley, you're pale. You don’t have the flu, do you? Is that even possible?” Aziraphale got up and walked over to the demon. He held up the back of his hand to Crowley’s forehead to check his temperature. “Are you even breathing? I know we don’t really need to, but you usually do.” Bless the angel for knowing so much about him. Not only that, but the headache had upgraded to migraine, and there was no button to go back. Suddenly, the light in the room was too much for Crowley's eyes, so he tried to reach for his glasses. Bad idea. Aziraphale grabbed his wrist before he could reach them. “Look at you darling, you’re shaking like a leaf! Please, tell me what's wrong.” his tone was filled with worry and confusion. Crowley dared a glance at Aziraphale’s face. There was no way to explain it, other than panic. His angel was panicking over him, worrying. Crowley screwed his eyes shut, not only to avoid that look but also to hopefully ease the steady throbbing. 

Crowley couldn’t deal with it. He couldn’t just stay as Aziraphale tried to force his greatest secret out of him. He had kept it for over 6,000 years, and he would be damned (again) if he was just going to let it up that easily. In a quick motion, he snapped his fingers and poofed back to his own flat. He landed on his side laying on his bed. The room was naturally kept dark, already making him feel a slight bit better. Maybe if he was lucky, he could fit in a few hours of sleep and wake up in better shape. 

Crowley barely had the energy to sober up, let alone answer the phone. When the phone did ring, there was really only one person it could be. After the message for the answering machine played through, Aziraphale’s voice came through.

_”Crowley? Please tell me you’re there,”_ a pause, waiting for an answer, then, _”Oh dear, I’m very sorry if I’ve done something to offend you. I do wish you would tell me if I did. We need to talk about this.”_ Then, finally, a softer sadder, _” I’m worried about you.”_ It came out just above a whisper, barely comprehensible, but it was there. The machine shut off after he was finished. Crowley started to feel even worse. How dare he make his angel worry! He should have at least made some sort of excuse to leave instead of panicking and miracling away. Sure, Aziraphale could have followed him if he just walked out, but that still would have been better, right? The guilt began to build up more and more. Thoughts of ‘should have planned for this more,’ and, ‘stupid, stupid demon,’ ran through his mind. At the end of it all, Crowley sobbed himself into a dreamless sleep. 

As Crowley slept in Mayfair, Aziraphale paced in Soho. Crowley never just left like that, especially when they were having such a good time mere moments before. Crowley hadn’t answered the phone when he called, and didn’t say anything before he left. Maybe he had been summoned? That had to have been it. Some silly human had summoned Crowley and he would be back soon! That’s why he didn’t answer his phone. But, that wouldn’t explain Crowley's miracle before he left. Maybe there was another reason he couldn’t answer the phone? No, it had been way too soon for hell to come knocking again. He splashed holy water at them for crying out loud! 

Aziraphale couldn’t stop worrying about Crowley. He couldn’t come up with an explanation as to why his demon had started acting so weird. He could only hope he was going to be ok.

By the time three days passed without so much as a word from Crowley, Aziraphale’s panic had kicked itself into full throttle. He had left multiple voice messages, nothing. He thought Crowley might send him a note to explain, nothing. Sure, Aziraphale understood that he might have wanted some alone time, but three days and no callback? This would have been normal before armageddon, but now it was completely uncalled for. 

Aziraphale had come to one conclusion: Crowley was mad at him. Why? He didn’t know, but he intended to find out. Since Crowley wouldn’t talk to him willingly, Aziraphale would just have to go see what was wrong himself. 

Aziraphale had been to the snake demon’s flat before, so unless Crowley moved without telling him, he knew exactly where he was going. He got to the flat in no time, and knocked on the door. “Crowley, I know you’re in there. Please open up!” He could sense the demon inside, so at least he was for sure alive. When no one came to the door, Aziraphale got the door open himself via miracle. The flat was exactly as he remembered it. Cold, dark, and minimal. He didn’t dwell in the living room for long before he made his way to the closed bedroom door. He knocked on this door too. 

Crowley was awoken by loud banging on his bedroom door. He felt a lot better now, meaning the sleep had worked. He groaned and rolled over to his other side to look at his clock. It was only 10:06 am, so he’d only been asleep for a few hours. Then, the door opened and Aziraphale was staring right at him. Great, this was exactly what he wanted to deal with right after he awoke. Just perfect.

“Crowley! There you are,” Aziraphale didn’t wait for an invitation, and just walked into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Crowley. “My dear, is this where you’ve been the entire time?” The principality had been filled with questions, but remembering what happened the last time they spoke, he opted to only ask a few at a time. 

“What are you talking about? It’s only been a few hours, hasn’t it?” 

Aziraphale sighed at this. “No my dear, it’s been three days.”

“Oh shit, sorry angel, didn’t really mean to sleep for that long.”

“It’s ok my dear,” Aziraphale softened his concerned face into a small smile. “I’ve just been worried, is all. You left so abruptly, I was afraid you were angry with me.”

Crowley gulped. He almost forgot about that and was wishing Aziraphale had forgotten the incident as well. “Oh that, that was nothing really. Just had something really important I had to do, that's a-” Aziraphale cut him off.

“Enough, Crowley. We both know that’s a lie. My dear, you know you can trust me, right? We’re on our side now. whatever‘s going on, I want to be there for you. Now, no more lies. Please, I’m begging you, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale took Crowley's face in his hands so he couldn’t look away. Aziraphale’s expression was softer than a memory foam pillow, and that alone nearly sent the demon into gross sobbing.

The softness, the care, and the mini-speech, Crowley couldn’t take it. He started crying before he could even respond with any of the truth. Aziraphale brought up Crowley into a tight hug, one arm around his side, rubbing his back while the other one was around his shoulders so he could cradle the head of red hair, holding his demon close to him while whispering soft assurances into his ears. Said demon’s response was to return the hug, and hold on for dear life. 

When Crowley calmed down enough to get comprehensible words out, everything came out. Crowley’s greatest secret was no longer just his, but Aziraphale’s as well. Aziraphale listened to every word. Every single word he spoke, every story and thought he had. Aziraphale listened, but more importantly, he stayed. He was there, holding Crowley at his most vulnerable. By the time it was over, Crowley’s sobs had subsided into sniffles. Aziraphale still hadn’t moved an inch.

“M’ sorry Angel…” 

“Shhh dearest, it’s alright. I’m glad you told me. No need to apologize.” Crowley pulled back so he could look Aziraphale in the face.

“Are you going to leave now?” Crowley was still Crowley, and he just couldn’t believe his angel wanted to be here still.

“Heavens no! You just told me something very important about yourself, why on earth would I leave?” Aziraphale planted a kiss on Crowley's forehead. “Crowley, the apocalypse could actually happen, and you still wouldn’t get rid of me.” Crowley giggled at this. Before burying his face back into Aziraphale’s chest.

“Thanks, Angel.”

“It’s nothing my dear. Now, would you like to get up, or shall we stay like this for a little while longer?” Crowley’s only response was to pull Aziraphale down to the bed with him. That was enough of an answer for Aziraphale. The covers were pulled back over the intertwined pair. Although Crowley had stopped crying, Aziraphale still comforted him. “I’m here for you my dear,” “You don’t have to go through this alone,” “We’ll do this together,” and Crowley's personal favorite, “I love you,” were just some of the phrases Aziraphale whispered to him during their cuddle session. 

They stayed like that for hours, Aziraphale making Crowley feel loved every second of it. When they finally got up, it was to go for a nice dinner at the Ritz, then back to the bookshop for a redo of a few nights previous. For those of you who want to know, it ended up with Crowley staying the night wrapped around Aziraphale, and even later a new residence with said angel in the South Downs.

After so long of having everything just out of his grasp, Crowley finally was able to have this after chasing after it for so long. Now that Aziraphale knew, he had no reason to lie anymore. Aziraphale had him completely. So, yes, there may be things one never truly recovers from, but if you have the right people, maybe it can get just a little bit better.


End file.
